Firelords
by broadwaypants
Summary: The continuation of the now famous 'Where is my mother' encounter.


_Disclaimer: My name is not Mike. My name is not Bryan. I cannot combine my name with someone else's to make the name Bryke. Therefore, these characters are not mine._

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Ozai could feel the fire within him. It was there, deep within his core, fizzing and sparking, waiting for him to tap into its hidden fountain. The flames were licking around his insides, rubbing tendril-like fingers against his body.

He closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall backwards, gently touching the rough stone wall of his cell. He felt his hair snag on the grains in the wall, his tender scalp protesting to its touch. His hair did not provide the protective shell it once had; it was thinning rapidly, great clumps of it falling out. Ozai drew a deep breath, trying to close out all distractions.

He pulled his legs in close to his body, wrapping his arms around his knees in a self-loving embrace. It was a show of affection to his dying fire, not protection. He savored the warmth his legs pressed against his chest and vice versa, forgetting that it was mere flesh and seeing the yellow flames climb higher inside his mind.

A scraping, squeaking noise broke in on his meditation. A sliver of orange light fell upon his face, and his eyes flickered open.

Someone was entering the room.

He let his legs fall limply to the ground, lying useless in front of him. He turned so his back was to the door, unwilling to see who it was that had come to mock the fallen Phoenix King.

He recognized the footfall before he heard the voice. He knew this would happen; he had expected it would come later, when he had had time to think to himself, to prepare.

"Where is my mother?"

He drew another breath, despising the bite of the cold air. As if in a trance, he lifted his right hand to his mouth and exhaled, the scant warmth barely enough to sufficiently warm him. He could see the flames surrounding his hand, licking at each finger, tearing the burnt flesh from bone…

"Where is she?"

"Can't you just leave me in peace?"

His voice was hoarse from disuse and barely more than a whisper. Ozai himself barely heard his request, and was taken aback, albeit slightly, when he received an answer.

"You no longer give the commands, Father. I am the Firelord now, and I am ordering you to tell me. Where is my mother?"

"So, tell me, Zuko. Am I still your father?"

He had caught him off guard here. A smile came to his hidden face, revealing yellow teeth. Ozai could feel his son fidgeting, unnerved by this question. Here he was, sitting in a prison cell, filthy beyond belief, but he still held power over his son, power _Firelord Zuko_ could never hope to acquire.

"What else would you be?"

"Oh, I don't know. Enemy of the cause, dictator, traitor. I would expect those from such a tongue as your own."

He was still smiling.

"No, Father. You may call yourself all those things, but to me, you will still be my father. And I am asking you, as your son, as someone I know you once loved, to tell me where my mother is."

Sappy, practiced speeches had never worked on Ozai. He had been born with a circle of fire around his heart, blocking such feeble attempts to enter. Why would that change now, when he was relishing what little power he had left?

"Ursa is dead to me. She died a long time ago. I no longer care to know where she is or whether she is alive."

"That's not true!"

He could feel the panic in Zuko's voice more than he could hear it. He could sense his son's discomfort, his worry, his anxiety. Ozai inhaled these emotions, feeling them fuel his inner fire.

"You love her, Father, I know you do! You have to. You just have to."

Ozai shifted ever so slightly, his movements lost to Zuko's closed eyes.

"I do not."

He turned to face this new Firelord, his cold, amber eyes looking determinedly at the mismatched eyelids of the other. Sensing Ozai's gaze, the boy opened his eerily similar amber eyes, locking onto his father's gaze.

"I do not love your mother. She is dead to me."

He did not have to watch to know that he had made the Firelord cry.

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_Yeah... I'm not sure what that was..._


End file.
